


In Which Dib is Growing Up and That’s Terrible: A Gaz Story

by orphan_account



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Christmas Eve, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Gaz is righteously disgusted, Gen, M/M, Mistletoe, Zim and Dib are as bad at kissing as they are at everything else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21952237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Something even stranger than usual is going on with Dib, and Gaz will get to the bottom of it. If she cares enough, that is, which she probably does not. ZADR, but it's more focused on the Membrane siblings' dynamic. One-shot.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	In Which Dib is Growing Up and That’s Terrible: A Gaz Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hell-yeah-i-believe-in-aliens](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hell-yeah-i-believe-in-aliens).



> This was originally posted to Tumblr as a ZADR secret santa for hell-yeah-i-believe-in-aliens, who wanted to see Zim and Dib kiss under the mistletoe!

Thinking back, she should have seen the signs that one, particularly horrible, early autumn night. She had been in the middle of checking the integrity of her copy of Porcine Knight because there had been another game-breaking glitch stalling her progress. The check was taking forever. The couch was all chewed-up due to her squeezing the plush in her fists. 

The door creaked open. The non-LED blue of night shone on her face. Of course it was Dib who had trespassed in her gamer cave (yes, in the evenings whenever Dad was not around, the entire first floor was the gamer cave, and it was sacrosanct). She climbed up to the top of the couch and stared down her brother. “Close the door, Dib,” she snapped. “Hurry upstairs and watch that vampire doughnut special I offered you.”

No response. Dib was frozen in the doorway, the moon behind him, looking like a wax figure.

“I know everything’s back to normal, so I won’t hesitate, brother!” She leaped from her perch and ran up to him, only to skid to a halt before she could shove him. Dib’s gigantic head was completely red, even worse than the time he had gotten stung by that swarm of vampire bees. And disturbingly, saliva was dripping from his mouth. This was a bad sign. Gaz had thought Dib only drooled in those drawings she made of him! “Dib, what happened to your gross head?” she asked, a little too softly for her tastes. “Were you sucking face with a chalupacabra or something?”

Dib made some non-committal, pathetic groan and touched his red cheeks in—shame? Embarrassment? To Gaz’s horror, he did not shout, “It’s called the _chupacabra_ and you know it, Gaz!”

Gaz sighed. She pulled him inside, trying not to touch him for longer than necessary. She slammed the door shut, happy to be embraced by darkness again. “Okay, well I don’t have time to help you sort out anything else. Your annual supportive sister moment was cashed-in since I pushed you to start fighting Zim again.” Without waiting for a response, she crept back to the couch. She heard Dib shamble up the stairs and left it at that.

* * *

The next alarming incident happened later in the cafeteria. Gaz was engrossed in her GameSlave, and was generously allowing her brother to sit next to her. All of this was normal. Neither of them had touched the cafeteria food. That was also normal. What was not normal was Zim marching over, slamming his tray of also-untouched food down, and sitting on the other side of Dib. 

Gaz raised an eyebrow and watched Dib and Zim from the corner of her squinting eyes. They were giving each other that look—the one that was a mix of annoyance and close observation. 

She waited for the obligatory “I know you’re up to something, Zim!” from Dib, but it never came. Instead, he said: “Why are you always wearing that pink dress-shirt thing, Zim? Isn’t your favorite color purple? Why not get a purple one, like Tak’s?” 

Zim smiled and pointed to himself. “Mine is the superior choice of uniform. This color demonstrates respect to both Tallest, not just one.”

“Haven’t they not called you in, like, months now?” 

Zim waved off the comment. “They know I know they’re proud of me.”

Gaz opened one eye. “Okay, I’ll bite,” she said, under her breath. “Why are you talking about this?”

Dib kept glaring at Zim. “What I’m trying to get at, Gaz, is that Zim ought to wear what he likes! What’s the point of thinking of his leaders’ approval all the time?” 

“What is the point of always thinking of that? You mean like how you’re always wearing that dark coat to look different from your father-unit, Dib?” Zim sneered. 

“That’s a low blow and you know it, you jerk!” Dib lunged at him, then initiated a pathetic slap fight. 

All the noises of stupidity coming from right beside Gaz sent her hackles up even more. “Hey!” she said, loudly. The two morons froze, giving her an opening. “It looks like you two should go clothes shopping at the mall together, doesn’t it?’’

To her confusion, they did not react with disgust. “That’s a great idea, Gaz,” said Dib. “Thanks!”

Her scowl deepened. “Yeah, yeah.” Something evil dawned on her, and she smiled. “After all, Christmas is coming.”

Zim and Dib pulled each other close in terror and shrieked. It was music to Gaz’s ears. Balance had been temporarily restored.

* * *

Gaz could no longer ignore the growing problem once Christmas Eve rolled around. She was playing Super Smash Pigs with Clembrane and winning every match. It was easy—his swollen hands could barely hold the controller—but he kept smiling away, overjoyed to spend time with her. 

Right before another win, the screen turned off. As did all the lights in the house, with a resounding _thud_. With a scream of frustration, Gaz stood up and threw her controller into the inky blackness. 

Clembrane put an oversized arm around her. “Don’t be scared, honey! I’ll go get the candles.”

Gaz shook her head. “Nah. My dad—er, other dad—has a perpetual energy generator in the basement. I’ll go down there and give it a good kick.” She wriggled out of his grasp and landed on the floor. 

The door opened and a blast of snowy air hit her in the face. It was a sea of white outside, and as her eyes adjusted to the sudden assault, she saw Dib and Zim in the doorway. It was clear that while she could see them, they could not see inside. 

Zim was looking up. “What is that?” 

“That’s mistletoe. Real mistletoe, too,” said Dib. “Lots of people mistake holly for it, you know—”

“I _don’t_ know. You know what they say about assuming things, Dib!” 

"How can you know that expression but not—ugh, never mind. Anyway, it’s a tradition that people kiss under the mistletoe.” 

“Why?”  
  
“Um… I don’t know… I didn’t invent it!” 

It happened both too fast and painfully slowly: Zim shrugged and pulled Dib into the sloppiest kiss ever. A waterfall of saliva, a… barrel-full of tongues…? It was too horrifying to describe for Gaz, no matter how much time had passed. But in the moment, she stood transfixed, unable to look away. She was full of bile fascination, as well as full of vomit threatening to come spilling out. She realized that she could no longer threaten to banish any of her enemies to a nightmare dimension. Not when there was this horrific reality. 

Fortunately, Clembrane broke her out of her daze. He popped up from the couch and ran to the door. “Welcome home, son! And I see you brought your best friend!”

Zim’s tongue snaked out of Dib’s mouth with a _slurp_. Gaz gagged. At least Dib had the awareness to look scared. “W-Wait, Clembrane?!” Dib’s voice cracked. “Please tell me you’re the only one who saw that!” 

Clembrane just pulled both Dib and Zim into a crushing hug. “Now remember kids, make sure to kiss that way every day!” The idiots in his arms shared a concerned look—Clembrane’s advice was notoriously bad. Gaz hoped they had enough common sense left between them to realize they needed to be ashamed, as she ran to the bathroom to throw up. 

* * *

A talking-to from Clembrane had not been anywhere enough, as far as Gaz was concerned. They needed to be destroyed. She waited in the dark, her feet on the edge of her perch, waiting to strike. As she expected, there came the frantic footfalls of them now. The door flew open and Gaz raised her fists. 

“What the—Gaz?!” Dib exclaimed as he stumbled in. “What are you doing in my room?”

“I saw everything, Dib. And you must be punished. Zim first, though, for obvious reasons.” She leaped off Dib’s bed, sending his blanket spilling on to the floor. 

“Gah!” Zim jumped to the side, dodging her fists. “I didn’t burn down that pizza place! It was Gir, I tell you! Gir!” 

“Wait… are you saying you burned down Bloaty’s?” Gaz’s urge to kill was swiftly rising. 

Dib, showing uncharacteristic wisdom, put his hand over Zim’s mouth, muffling his reply. “Gaz, if you’re going to punish us, at least tell us why first!” Dib said. “I’m sorry you saw… that, but it’s not like we were kissing _at_ you or anything.”

Gaz sighed. “If you really don’t know, I can’t help you. You both have to die, and Zim’s execution comes first.”

Despite sweating bullets, Dib stayed between Gaz and Zim. “I won’t let you hurt him, Gaz! Zim is _my_ mortal enemy—I mean, boyfriend? Boyfrenemy?”

Zim worked out that he could just back away from Dib’s hand. “We agreed that term was stupid.

“But it’s accurate!”  
  
Gaz paused to consider punishing Dib first, then decided against it. But this hesitation allowed Zim to step in and open his big mouth. “…Anyway, what the Dib has failed to notice is that you’re just jelly, Gaz. Jelly of how mature we are, and what a powerful partnership we’ve formed. No matter how scary you are, you could never stand up to the greatest authoritarians since the Tallest. I wouldn’t resort to empty threats if I were you!” He reached out as if to flick her hooked bangs, but pulled his hand away in disgust at the last second. Did he think she was less sanitary than Dib’s gross face? Gaz’s fists tightened at the thought. 

“Authoritarianism is bad, Zim, we’ve been over this,” Dib whispered. “But maybe you’re right? She has been kinda weird for a while now, but not weird enough to suggest she’s been possessed. You’re not possessed, are you, Gaz?”  
  
Gaz bared her teeth at him. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think you were.” He turned back to Zim. “But how do you know she’s jealous?”

“Zim is the best at knowing!” Zim exclaimed.  
  
“Sure, Zim…”  
  
Enough was enough. There should have been something sad about wasting her superior size on strength on Zim of all people, but Gaz could not help herself. She shoved Dib to get a clear shot. Metal legs emerged from Zim’s PAK as she closed in. They made for great handholds. She swung Zim around a few times before flinging him into the air as he screamed. He crashed into the blinds and smashed through the window glass, falling to the snow below. 

Gaz and Dib heard Zim weakly say “I’m okay!” from the yard. 

Dib and Gaz locked gazes, communicating wordlessly as only literal test tube baby siblings could. Dib wanted her to show remorse, and Gaz was not having any of it. But instead of ranting at her, Dib just reached up to the light switch and flicked it on. Gaz took in the room for the first time in—she was not sure how long. Since when were the walls so bare? Where were the scattered drawings of Zim conspiracy theories? Even the pushpin-dotted cork board mounted across from the bed was tidy, with printed articles carefully juxtaposed with photos of what she presumed was paranormal junk. 

Gaz looked back at her brother. “What’s going on here? Dib, you’re scaring me. _Me_.”

“Really?” Dib lit up, suddenly perky again. “Ha! It’s long-past time that I get payback for all the times you scared me! And for whatever it was you just did to Zim!” 

“So his cartoonish, evil idiocy rubbed off on you? I hate it.” Gaz punched him in the shoulder. Lightly. “Anyway, I expect you to level with me. Now.” She opened her eyes. “How long has this grossness been oozing from your pores? And from whatever Zim has, if he doesn’t have pores?”

“Huh? What?” Dib asked, rubbing his shoulder.  
  
“How long have you been doing… this?!” She bumped her shaking fists together in a crude imitation of her brother’s and Zim’s heads. 

Dib just looked disturbed. 

“I mean, the gross _love_.” She said it like the four-letter word it was. “When did all that start?”  
  
Dib turned bright pink and put his hands over his chest, like he had been shot. “W-Wait, I’m only thirteen! You can’t use the L-word!” he yelled. “Isn’t everything hard enough for us already?! You don’t need to rush us, too!”  
  
“I never said ‘lesbian.’”

“Not that L-word!” Dib turned even pinker, but pushed through the embarrassment. He wandered over to his bed, pulled his blanket off the floor, and sat down. He looked askance as he mumbled. “Gaz, do you remember when I quit being Zim’s arch-nemesis? And then quit… quitting being his arch-nemesis?”

“Yeah?” Gaz sat down next to him, making sure to take up more of the bed than necessary. 

Dib was not even paying enough attention to be annoyed. He talked a mile a minute. “When I told him I was gonna fight him again we were really excited and happy and then he kissed me right here—” He pointed to his temple. “—and then I’m not really sure what happened but we kissed, like, really kissed a few times and it was kinda awkward—okay, really awkward—but also sweet—and then we were just worst enemies who apparently kiss sometimes, which is weird, right? Isn’t that weird?!”  
  
“It is weird and you’re weird, Dib.” 

Dib ignored this comment and just kept talking. “And then after a while Zim came to me in the middle of the night, crying about how he’d realized he wanted us to eat doughnuts together like the Tallest do, and actually, I never knew how much I liked glazed doughnuts until—” Gaz tuned out the rest of the nonsense he was spouting. “…and that’s everything.” Dib removed his glasses and wiped the lenses with his shirt, cleaning off the beads of sweat—or were they tears?—from them. He sighed. “What do you think?” he asked, in a low voice.

“I think I’m sorry I asked.” 

Dib frowned. “You know, I can’t believe I expected any more from you. You didn’t even notice the two of us becoming friends, o-or anything! And after all, I already cashed in my annual supportive sister moment, didn’t I?” He glared at her. 

“Wait, what?” Gaz blinked. She had totally forgotten about that. “Was this all a cry for help? What’s going on?” 

Dib looked away again. 

She gently put a hand on his shoulder. “You can tell me. Remember, it’s no fun for me to beat you when you’re down.”

As expected, Dib could not resist the urge to speak. “It’s just… should I be scared? I don’t think I know what happened this year any more than you do, Gaz.” His gaze softened. “Sometimes I feel like Zim is the only one I click with. And that feeling’s been getting stronger and stronger. Is that okay? I’m only a kid. Isn’t it unhealthy to feel like there’s one guy… alien… who validates my existence?” 

Gaz smiled slightly and tightened her grip on his shoulder. “Listen, I think you should try and make friends with some humans, Dib. Or ghosts or aliens, whatever. But also, I get… I mean, I r-respect…” she stammered. “Ugh, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think what you and Zim have is really special, and maybe I'm even a little jealous! Even though once you're out of this funk I'll tell you I meant 'really special' as is 'especially stupid and annoying."

Dib’s eyes widened. He pulled her into a crushing hug. When had he gotten so strong? “You’re the best, Gaz!” he said. He sniffled, apparently having barely held back tears.“No!” Gaz screamed to the heavens. “Let me go! Your big head is covered in alien cooties, Dib! Alien cooties!” 

“My head’s not big!” He loosened his hold on her. “Do you really think alien cooties are really a thing? I should look into that.”  
  
“Anything, just leave me alone!”  
  
“Then we should look into it together!” 

Gaz finally managed to push him over, knocking him into the headboard. “I’m not kissing your boyfriend. His voice fills me with rage! Get alien mono on your own time.” 

Like her favorite punching bag, he popped right back up. “Ew, I didn’t mean for you to kiss him!”  
  
“You don’t get to say ‘ew’ to that. I saw you slobbering all over each other.” 

“You kissing Zim is different than me kissing him! And it’s not my fault nobody told us how to kiss properly!”

The two of them continued to bicker and catch up long into the night. 

* * *

When she was safely back in her own room, in her own bed, in her demon-winged pajamas, Gaz took out her diary. It was the most despair-inducing text next to _The King in Yellow_ , of course. She turned on her nightlight and wrote: “Today I discovered something even more powerful than I am. It's Dib's and Zim's gross gooey feelings for each other. Another reason for me to be mad at it and the universe. Stupid universe.” She closed the book, turned out the light, and went to bed, a sentimental smile on her face all the entire time. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
